


Beshrew My Heart

by MacBeth



Category: Taming of the Shrew - Shakespeare
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Fix-It, Impact Play, Missing Scene, Nudity, Obscure & British, Roleplay, Sexual Content, Spanking, double entendre and innuendo, hard-core wordplay, heavy puns, mild humiliation play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacBeth/pseuds/MacBeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short synopsis:  Kate and Petruchio return home post-final-curtain, and celebrate their confoundment of Kate's family by returning their relationship to its normal dynamic.</p><p>This fic is especially for those who might find <i>The Taming of the Shrew</i> a bit . . . <i>problematic</i>, even through a historical lens, unless heavy doses of mitigating subtext are projected into the mix.  This is subtext that may help, or at least make a difference.  (Or possibly ruin the play for you forever, in which case, oops, you probably should have read the tags and warnings more carefully.)</p><p>Warnings:  BDSM (consensual); some sexual content</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beshrew My Heart

**Beshrew My Heart**

 

_Enter Petruchio and Katherina, bearing luggage._

_Petruchio._  
Home sweet home at last!  
Our travels finished, fortunes doubly made,  
And sweet domestic normalcy awaits.

_They both double over with hysterical laughter._

_Katherina._  
Didst see the look upon my sister’s face  
When I bade her to meeken up  
And kiss her puling husband’s flabby arse?

 _Petr._  
I truly thought her goggling eyes would burst.  
A masterful performance, Kate my dear.  
But now, I hope, we’ll turn our double backs  
On all such loathsome posturings and airs  
And turn back to our rightful, best-loved ways.  
How best shall we begin?

 _Kath._  
Fetch my writing-case; I’ll coin some fresh advice. _She considers._

I’ll bid Bianca chew her husband’s meat  
Lest he may crack a tooth.

 _Petr._  
 _Brings Kate’s writing-case._  
Has her husband any meat to chew?

 _Kath._  
I fancy he has some old sausage, stuff’d in his drawer.

 _Petr._  
You fancy his sausage?

 _Kath._  
I fancy it stuff’d. And mounted for a trophy. Fie on thee! _She cuffs him._  
Thy sausage I’ll mount, and make fine stuff of it.

_He sits at the desk, prepares a pen and makes ready to write._

_Kath. [dictates]_  
‘My dear Bianca’ – what’s this? _She looks over his shoulder._  
Call you that a letter? Tis a fright, a fatch,  
A most blighted, botched and bungled blot. _She cuffs him again at each word._

 _Petr._  
Mistress, I but do my best.

 _Kath._  
Mistress? I’ll mistress thee. Methought you were a secretary.  
For tuppence I’ll fold and spindle thee. _She yanks his hair._

 _Petr._  
O, I am mutilated!

 _Kath._  
First you scrawl above thy station, now you run before the event.  
Mutilation? ‘Tis for dessert, and we are only at the appetizer.

_She considers him, shaking her head in disapproval._

Petruchio, that shirt becomes you not:  
Off with that offal. Throw it underfoot. _He does so._

Faith, now what is this? Hast cast thy laundry on the floor  
Like some slattern? On thy fours and pick it up.

_Petruchio goes to pick up the shirt._

With thy teeth.

_As he does so, she yanks down his breeches._

I say, it is a moon that shines so bright.

_She spanks him hard. He yelps._

Indeed, it is the fine round moon full-swell’d, and the dogs howl at it.

_She spanks more. His yells are muffled by the shirt in his teeth._

Up, sirrah, and look to thy Ps and Qs.

 _Petr._  
I’d sooner look to thy Ts and As. Or Bs and Cs. _He stands up, kicks his clothes aside and leers at her._

 _Kath._  
Fie, thy letters are marr’d in every stroke.  
Must I chastise thee further?  
Lay thy erring hands flat on the desk. Move them not!  
Cast thine eyes close upon thy scrawls, and consider how better to form them.

_He stoops over the desk and places his hands flat on its surface. She takes the quill and tickles his nose. He sneezes._

_Kath._  
Fie, hast caught a cold?

 _Petr._  
Nay, I have caught a wasp, and dread its sting.

 _Kath._  
Recall you where the wasp doth wear its sting? In its tail.

_She produces a singletail whip from inside the writing-case._

Now sir, as promised: thy tongue on my tail.

_She holds the whip as he kisses and licks it._

Ho, dog, thou waggest thy tongue right well.

 _Petr._  
Verily, I am but a wag. _He waggles his ass._

 _Kath._  
Thou art but a bitch.  
Does my tail wag thy dog?

 _She smacks his ass lightly with the whip. He yelps._ Fie, what howling!

 _Petr._  
I am naught but a hound dog. Whither is thy cat?

 _Kath._  
‘Tis in the toy chest. Shall the cat chase thee, dog?  
List, and you may hear it waving its nine tails.

 _Petr._  
Must I list them? I know not their names.

 _Kath._  
What, my secretary forgets the names of my boon companions?  
Must I refresh your memory?

_She brandishes a cat o’ nine tails._

Nine names, mind you! Tell them out!

_She flogs him. He gasps out a name with each blow._

_Petr._  
Ow! – that’s Tom, and – ow! – Tib – and – ow!! – Gyb – OW!

 _Kath._  
Thou speakest well; flag not.

 _Petr._  
That cat speaks loudly. It must be Glib.

 _Kath._  
Hast held thy count?

 _Petr._  
Yea, four cats. Pray continue, mistress, ere I have kittens.  
Ow – Moggy – and ow! – um – Mopsy – mm –

 _Kath._  
Ah, have I found the sweet spot?

 _Petr._  
Mistress, lightning strikes not in one place,  
though storms may rage and bruisèd clouds show where the bolt has struck.  
Why must thou?

 _Kath._  
‘Tis the same damned spot, say you? _Another blow._

 _Petr._  
Ow!!  Out, damned spot!

 _Kath._ Name it!

 _Petr._  
That’s Greymalkin – a foul witch’s cat, indeed. _Another blow._  
A happy blow! It must be Felix.  
Eight cats are counted, mistress.

 _Kath._  
That’s one more than St. Ives. _A final blow._

 _Petr._  
A kingly blow; that’s Leo. I mark him well.

 _Kath._  
He marks thee well. There shall be a storm of bruises on the morrow. _She pats his ass._  
Thou hast profited well by thy good exercise.

_She reaches around him from behind and grasps firmly._

_Petr. [gasping]_  
No profit grows where is no pleasure taken.  
An it please you, I’ll be whip’d at the high cross every morning.

 _Kath. [squeezing]_  
Chastisement suits thee well. E’en now thou leap’st out of thyself for joy.

 _Petr. [shuddering]_  
Both our inventions meet and jump in one.

 _Kath. [murmurs into his ear]_  
My hand is ready. May it do you ease.

 

_~ fin ~_

**Author's Note:**

> This was for another prompt from the Obscure & British fest: "Taming of the Shrew, Katherine/Petruchio, secretary kink". If you've seen the film _Secretary_ , you'll see some specific elements here from that film.
> 
> For those less familiar with BDSM as practiced in real life:  
> \- In a couple with a D/s relationship, the dominant partner is not always who you might expect based on public behaviour. With the roles clearly set in private life, a couple can present a completely different and entirely convincing public face.
> 
> \- Requiring the bottom to count the blows is a fairly common element of impact play scenes.
> 
> \- A singletail whip, as the name suggests, has a single lash; a cat has multiple lashes (often called falls). (No extra credit given for guessing how many falls a cat-o'-nine-tails traditionally has.) ;)
> 
> \- "Same damned spot", aka SDS, is a common expression used to describe a top whose aim is . . . consistent. A given spot on the body becomes more sensitive with multiple hits. Tops know this. So do bottoms.
> 
> \- In some relationships, the bottom will sass back during scenes. This is so common it even has an acronym, SAM, which stands for "Smart-Assed Masochist". The usual result of this behaviour is an increase in the intensity of the scene. This is, of course, why SAMs do it. (Really, there's nothing like making your top safeword over a bad pun . . . )
> 
> For those less familiar with Shakespeare:  
> \- There are quite a few lines in this taken directly from the plays, or amended slightly, including five out of the last six lines here, and _especially_ including the final line. And, yes, there are some other quotes in there, including Elvis.


End file.
